


The Dark's Not Taking Prisoners

by brialight



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Fictional World, First Meetings, M/M, Mysterious Past, joshler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:13:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brialight/pseuds/brialight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's running. And he needs to keep running. He knows he needs to, he has no choice. He isn't sure what he's running from, but the dogs he hears are enough to keep him going.<br/>Lost out in the woods with no name, no memory aside from what has happened in the past few minutes, he sees a cabin - his only hope of getting away, being safe. And maybe, just maybe, the cabin's occupant might be a new friend.</p><p>Josh Dun has been free for three years. He loves it. Not that he really remembers what happened before hand, but he had been running from something, and whatever it was, it had to have been bad if he was running, right? He thought he was out of it, that he had escaped all connections to his past, but when a skinny boy in a tattered and stained hospital gown shows up at his door in the middle of winter, he finds himself pulled in head first to the life he tried to avoid at all costs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Dire, My Time, Today

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first fanfic I've ever posted anywhere, so yeah. Be gentle with me lol.  
> That said, I do appreciate critiques to my work.  
> Enjoy, and maybe tell me what you think?  
> ((There will be more characters later - at the beginning it's just the boys though.))

Fear.

Never ending fear, coursing through his veins like a river after a flood.

He can’t remember much of anything. The only things he really knows are that he can hear dogs barking not too far behind him, he can smell something terrible and probably decomposing, and he needs to keep running if he wants to stay alive.

He feels like he’s just woken up, stuck in the middle of a waking night mare – he can’t recall anything from beyond about ten minutes ago. There is a sort of pressure between and behind his eyes, and he doesn’t like it. But he keeps running. He couldn’t risk stopping for anything, even if he suddenly went blind he would keep running. Suddenly, there’s water in front of him, and then he’s ankle deep in it, cold water splashing up his legs as he runs, trying to convince himself the dogs would lose his scent this way. As he runs, the water gets deeper and it was soon up past his knees, starting to soak the edge of the hospital gown he wore.

He considers why he was wearing it for a minute before deciding it didn’t matter and he would keep wearing it because he didn’t want to stop to remove it.

The pressure behind his eyes became more intense and for a few minutes there was nothing and then –

Wait.

Where is he?

Why is he running?

What on earth is the terrible smell?

Is that - ? Oh. That’s dogs. Barking. Chasing him.

He decides there is no choice but to keep running. He didn’t know why he was in the water, but he decides to stay in it, trying to keep his speed while wadding in some of the deeper parts to avoid leaving footprints or scents for the dogs to pick up.

He knows dogs are bad, the connotation is there somewhere in his mind, and the smell certainly is too. He knows that the water was making him colder. But he has no choice but to keep going, even if the cold was starting to take his breath away quicker than he could regain it.

He forces himself to breath evenly, keeping his eyes ahead of him. The sound of the dogs was starting to get farther away, but he didn’t dare stop. He doesn’t stop until he can’t hear them at all. Even then he kept walking, stepping out onto the bank momentarily, to get away from the cold. The air didn’t help much but he thought it was probably better than the water.

After what he thinks is fifteen minutes, he sees a building. There’s no lights. He has no idea why there is a building out here in the middle of no-where. He doesn’t know what it’s for, if there are people inside, if those people would be friendly, or if they would take him back to where ever he was running from.

He decides to knock and find out.

No more than a second after he knocked, the door whips open, and there stood a man, not as tall as him, but big – muscular enough to make up for it. The smaller of the two jumps back, fearful of the sharp metal being pointed at him.

“What do you want?” The guy growls, furrowing his brows at the skinny kid that had showed up at his door at 1:56 in the morning of all times.

“Help,” a cracked and tired voice sobs, trying to recall how to form words properly. “Need help. Scared.”

The bigger, scarier man lowers his knife, squinting at the figure cowering on the ground in front of him. “What do you need help with, kid?”

“Hurt. Cold. Need hide. Dogs. Bad smell.” The kid's hand goes to his neck in what the bigger assumes is a nervous gesture, coming away with blood on the tips of his fingers, but he doesn't seem to notice it. The other certainly did, however, and very quickly decides that he needs to help this scrawny kid, even if he did just wake him up in the middle of the night.

“Okay, okay, one thing at a time.” He sighs, and the boy watches as his beard moves with the breath, seeming to be fascinated. “Let’s get you inside. Get you warm. Sound good?”

“Please. Please, please, please.”


	2. Does It Bother Any One Else That Someone Else Has Your Name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two!!!  
> *Celebration noises*  
> Also, THE TITLE IS FROM ONE OF MY FAVORITE SONGS BY THE BOYS  
> This chapter is a bit longer than the last one. And by that I mean I almost doubled it. I like this length a little better, it advances the story more (and I can have more detail in there).  
> Yeah, let me know what you think!
> 
> ((I didn't mean to update two days in a row, but I mean I couldn't help it. I like this chapter.))

_“Okay, okay, one thing at a time.” He sighs, and the boy watches as his beard moves with the breath. “Let’s get you inside. Get you warm. Sound good?”_

_“Please. Please, please, please.”_

Long fingers move to help the equally lanky body of the boy to his knees and the bearded man sees red dripping down his one arm, and on his legs. The gown was pink in places from what he assumed were injuries that would need to be cared for. He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into, but he might as well. The kid looks like he’s about to die from the cold for fuck’s sake.

He has to help the kid to his feet and gently pushes him inside, grabing a pair of pants and a sweatshirt he thinks might fit the kid. “Here. Put these on.”

The kid seems to understand the pants, but the sweatshirt confuses him, and he ends up needing help to pull it over his head.

“Sit,” he says, pointing to a spot and watching as the kid does so, looking up at him with huge eyes.

The owner of the building and the clothes starts to build up the fire that had settled almost to embers, hoping to keep the kid as warm as possible before tackling the wounds.

Suddenly the kid makes a noise of pain, and he turns around to find the kid nearly folding himself in half, holding on to the sides of his head. That’s when he sees it. The little metal thing sticking out of the back of his neck. There’s blood flowing from around the edges of it – that’s where the blood that had been running down the kid’s arm had come from. His hand subconsciously goes to the back of his own neck, and he feels the scar. Suddenly he knows what’s going on.

He works quickly, yanking out his first aid kit and setting it down, pushing the blade of his knife into the flames to sanitize it before rinsing it off with cool water, talking to the kid, trying to get him to talk to him. He could only get one word out of him.

“Help.”

And he steeled himself to do just that, settling behind the kid with his knife, a pair of tweezers a sanitized needle and some fishing line.

“Gonna help, gonna help you remember, okay? It’s gonna hurt but it will be okay, I promise.”

The kid whined like a puppy that had his paw stuck in a fence. That set his new companion to work even faster.

Very quickly, he counted down and pulled out the metal piece, carefully prying under it with his knife.

He knew how it worked. He'd had one of these things in his neck for who knew how long. Probably since he was born.

Wires were cut quickly and the needle threaded.

When the thing was out, the kid sobbed, trying to stay still because he doesn’t know what’s happening – he doesn’t know why the back of his neck hurts, why something is repeatedly stabbing the skin in the back of his neck why there was suddenly something cold being rubbed on it and - oh. A bandage. He thinks it’s a bandage at least. That’s what the pieces of cloth that cover wounds are called, right?

“Bandage. Bandage?” He says quietly at first then a little louder, trying to make sure it sounded like a question.

“Yes, bandage.” The bearded guy moves around in front of him. “You don’t remember much, right?”

A nod of affirmation.

“That’s because I took this out of your neck. It makes it so you can’t remember new things.”

“How?” The kid pokes at the hunk of metal and a few splayed wires sitting in the guys palm.

“Electricity. Do you know what that is?”

The kid squints, thinking for a moment. “Yeah.”

“This thing takes electricity and puts it in your head, so it doesn’t work right.”

“Oh.” The kid’s eyes go wide and he stares at the bearded guy. “Who?”

“Who am I? Or who put this in your neck?"

“You.” The kid wiggles around a little, trying to study the guy’s face.

“My name is Josh. Do you know what your name is?”

“Josh…” the kid says, processing the name and then thinking for a minute, his hand going to his neck automatically in what josh assumes is either an act of anxiety or to try to calm the weird feeling in the back of his neck. “No name.”

“You don’t know it?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well… Let me see your arm.” 

“Arm?” His nose scrunches up. “Why?”

Josh smiles sympathetically. “Well, I was in a similar situation as you a couple years ago. I had the same thing in the back of my neck. And the people, whoever they were, gave me a tattoo. Do you wanna see it?”

The kid nods excitedly, bouncing a little. He isn’t quite sure just what a tattoo is but he thought it was something interesting at least. Josh’s smile grows at the kid’s enthusiasm, carefully pulling up the sleeve on his right arm and flipping it to show his wrist. Running down his arm from elbow to wrist, in large black print, was “JSH-DN-6-18-88”.

The kid examined the letters intently, poking at them and tracing them with his finger.

Josh squints, examining the kid. He understands why he’s acting so young – he had been the same way at first. He had been forced to learn everything that people learned from age four or so on at… Well, he didn’t actually know how old he was. His best guess was that he was that the numbers on his arm were a birthday. If that was true that meant he was about 25, but if it wasn’t… He shook the thoughts out of his head, refocusing back on the kid in front of him.

“So? Can I look at your arm?” Josh’s words are met once again with enthusiastic nodding, and his finds himself with two skin and bones arms being pushed towards him.

He carefully takes the boy’s right arm, pushing the left back to sit at his side, and pushes up the sleeve, seeing numbers and letters come in to view in familiar, block-like print.

“TLR-JPH-12-1-88,” Josh read aloud, looking up at the kid’s eyes for a minute.

The format of the numbers was different. The number of letters in the second set was different. Josh considers for a minute before noticing the numbers still fit the format of a date. That would mean they’re almost the same age.

“Well, now, we need to think of a name that fits those letters, yeah?”

Another intense nod, excitement lighting up the kid – _no,_ Josh thinks, _I need to stop thinking of him as a kid_ – the boy’s eyes. Boy isn’t much better in Josh’s mind, but he will soon have a name to replace it with.

“TLR… What about Tyler? Does that sound good?”

“Tyler…” The syllables roll of his tongue like words from a foreign language, something he had never learned any words from in the past. “Good name. Like it.”

That bright smile is back on his face, lighting up the small cabin more than just the fire a few feet away from them.

Then the smile drops and he looks back at his arm.

“More letters? J… P… H?”

“Ah, yeah. You need a last name too.” Josh muses, looking at the kid – _Tyler’s_ arm again.

“Why two name?”

“Well, most people have two names. The second is so that people can tell you apart from other Tylers.”

“Oh.” Tyler makes a face at the thought. Why would someone have the same name as him? That's his name, right?

Josh smiles, finding that Tyler is way too adorable when concentrating.

Oh.

Oh, no he does not want to dig himself any further into this than he already has.

His smile drops, and he goes back to considering names. The two of them are silent for a full minute at least until Josh finally speaks again: “Joseph.”

“Jo-seph,” Tyler enunciates, trying to wrap his brain and his tongue around the new word. “Ty-ler Jo-seph.”

“Yeah, you got it.”

That blinding smile is back and Josh suddenly realizes he's gotten himself stuck exactly where he never wanted to be again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Josh Dun: Mystery Man joins us once again.  
> ((their ages are a little different from real life for reasons that will be explained later on))  
> More mystery is still come though. I just hope ya'll stick around to see it.


	3. I'll Stay Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on updating twice a week from now on (I hope). Wednesdays and Sundays will be the update days.  
> I know the story doesn't advance too much in this chapter, but it gives you a little insight into the boys in this world and I think that helps with the story.  
> And, yeah, tell me if you liked it?

Newly named, a very pleased Tyler seems very interested in learning more about Josh, saying both his new name and the name of his companion as often as he can, asking as many questions as he can think of in his somewhat limited vocabulary. Luckily, Josh is pretty good at understanding what he means, even if he is using single words and broken sentences.  
“Josh. Josh, Josh, Josh!” Tyler giggles, bouncing on his heels.  
Josh smiles tiredly, gently placing some dried meat in Tyler’s hands, and trying to get him to sit down close enough to the fire that he stays warm. The last thing he needed was Tyler getting hypothermia. “Here. Food. You need to eat.”  
Josh finds himself watching Tyler, examining his movements and reactions and just how similar he is to the way he remembers himself being almost three years ago when he had met a man who decided to be merciful with him and cut out the little machine embedded into his neck.  
It hits him that it’s about a month off from when that man had found him, running along the banks of a freezing stream, ice floating along beside him, scraping the sides of his ankles and stabbing his bare feet.  
For a brief moment, Josh finds himself pulled back into the memories, the intense emotions that he was feeling at the time – anxiety and panic and terror – and the putrid smell coming from behind him that he couldn’t put a name to. It was probably the same thing that Tyler had been talking about when he first appeared. “Bad smell,” Josh recalled him saying. He swallows, feeling his hands start shaking.  
Josh shook himself, willing the anxiety away and focusing back on Tyler, who had finished eating and is now watching the fire intently as flames lick over the logs Josh had put in just minutes prior.  
“Tyler,” Josh says carefully, quietly, to avoid startling him.  
There are those wide brown eyes again, so childlike, and surprisingly innocent despite what they may have seen, what could have possibly happened in the past few hours – or days, Josh didn’t know how long it had been, where Tyler or Josh himself had come from.  
Tyler makes a noise, which Josh understands as him asking what’s up.  
“We need to go to sleep soon.” The sentence is punctuated by a long yawn.  
“Sleep?” Tyler blinks. “No. Sleep bad. Awake safe.”  
“Tyler, you need to sleep. No one will hurt you here.”  
“Sleep bad, bad, bad. Scary. Stabby things.” Despite himself, Tyler yawns, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.  
Josh makes a face, not understanding just where these connotations with sleep were coming from. Maybe Tyler remembered things a little better than Josh?  
In truth, Tyler doesn’t know any more than Josh does. He doesn’t know why sleeping is bad, he just knows it is, much like how he recalls dogs being bad without knowing why per say.  
“Did something bad happen when you were sleeping, Tyler?”  
Tyler considers, wrinkling his nose up in concentration and placing a hand on the side of his neck. “I dunno,” he mumbles, attempting to remember anything, anything at all that happened before he ran down the bank and onto Josh’s porch.  
Josh squints, looking at the fire as he considers his options. He settles for trying to explain why sleep is a good thing – a necessary thing.  
“Tyler, I want you to know that nobody is going to hurt you here. No one is going to come in here while we are sleeping, okay? We – we need to sleep or we won’t be able to do anything tomorrow. You might get sick if you don’t sleep.” He doesn’t sound all that convincing, even to himself, but it must be convincing enough.  
Tyler makes what Josh dubs as his thinking face again, and considers the other’s words. “Don’t wanna be sick.”  
“Exactly. And look,” Josh says, getting up and walking to the door. “If I lock this, no one can get in.” Josh never actually locked his door, but he would tonight if it would get this kid to go to sleep so that Josh himself could sleep. His cabin looks creepy and decrepit enough, from the outside at least, that people tend to stay away, if there even were any people around. Josh lives in a pretty empty area since he is out in the middle of the woods. He had scared off a couple of people looking to see if he had anything they could steal, but those were few and far between.  
“I get out?” Tyler says, looking like he’s about to start panicking over the idea of being locked in. Josh hadn’t even touched the lock yet.  
“Hey, hey, look the lock is on the inside, see?” He flips it back and forth to show the other. “Since we are inside we can unlock it. But anyone on the outside can’t get in.” Josh explains a bit too quickly, fearing that Tyler would go into a panic attack, which would be the last thing either of them needed.  
Josh stifles a yawn and Tyler settles, seeming to understand that what Josh had said.  
“Okay.” Tyler squints at Josh, attempting to put words together in a way that will make sense to his companion. “You… word, word, word… tired?”  
Josh smiles, partially because of Tyler’s use of “word” as a filler word in his sentence, and partially because Tyler was starting to pick up on his body language. He had to give the kid credit, he was learning fast. “Yeah, Tyler. I’m really tired. You look like you are too.”  
“Eh?” Tyler seems surprised by this, putting his hands on his face as if to try to find what was making him look tired.  
“It’s okay. That’s not a bad thing. It just means you need to go to sleep, okay?”  
Josh glances at his bed before looking back at the boy. Good thing he had extra blankets.  
“You can sleep on my bed. I can sleep on the floor.”  
Tyler seems slightly confused by this, which surprises Josh, but neither of them questions it, as much as they want to ask why Josh would give up his bed, and how Tyler’s morals and sense of self were so developed, respectively. They both knew the other wouldn’t be able to answer.  
Josh lays out blankets on the floor for himself, in between the fire and the bed, before convincing Tyler to lay down on said furniture. He fell asleep before Josh could even wrap himself up in his own blankets.  
Josh’s last thought before he drifts off into slumber is, “Tomorrow’s gonna be a long ass day.”


End file.
